Follow the Threads
by fandm-writer
Summary: In the end it wasn't about denial, it was about respect. It was about honoring Tim in his own way, one dead Robin to another.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone! Alrighty, so this is set in the Detective Comics post #940. You know what that means. If you don't, SPOILERS AHEAD (and not just the purple kind lol)**

 **Anyway I was reading the Detective Comics when I wrote this and it really bugged me that no one knew Tim was alive nor did anyone look for him. So this fic was born. This story is from Jason's POV**

* * *

Jason inhaled slowly and closed his eyes, the concrete cool against his palm. The air was sharp and cold and smelled faintly of rain. It was a gloomy day, much like every other day in Gotham, but Jason could help but feel like this one was just a little bit grayer.

In all honestly, he didn't know why he was there. Well, that was a lie, he knew exactly why. He was there because Tim Drake was dead, he was there because his _brother_ was dead. But that wasn't really the question, was it? The question was; why was he on the roof of The Belfry rather then at his brother's funeral?

 _Denial._

 _Anger._

 _Bargaining._

 _Depression._

 _Acceptance_.

The five stages of grief, Jason was well aware and well acquainted with them. He was pretty sure he had gone through all of them in past few weeks, yet somehow he had found himself squarely back at denial.

But maybe it wasn't denial, because Jason had a sinking feeling in his stomach. One that settled right next to an insane amount of grief and a little spark of anger. The _grief_ was for his brother, the _anger_ was at Bruce for getting another Robin killed in the line in duty. (One that had always been far too willing to die.)

And the sinking feeling was because Jason just wasn't sure he'd find anything. A part of him wanted to, but another part knew it was a stretch. However, in the end even if it was, he owed Tim that much.

So maybe it wasn't about denial, it was about respect. It was about honoring Tim in his own way, one dead Robin to another. Which was why Jason found himself there, looking for evidence that Tim might still be alive. Somehow. Again, he knew it was a far fetched, but he also knew death wasn't always permanent. He was a walking example. Jason had been buried for months before he somehow came back, they didn't even have Tim's body, or any remains for that matter.

Logically, he knew Bruce had no way of knowing Jason had come back to life. But still, he couldn't help but think that maybe if someone had taken the time to run all the leads until the end, follow all the treads, maybe things could have been different. Jason was going to be that person for Tim, he was going to follow any threads that presented themselves. He wasn't there to save him, or to help him when he needed it most. But he could at least do this. He _owed_ him that much, they all did.

Jason exhaled, rising from his crouched position. He then began to canvas the area, taking in every detail.

He had read the file and heard the last com transmissions so Jason had a pretty good idea of how everything went down. He hated how it began to play through his head, but he knew it needed to. He needed a clear mental picture.

 _'Tell them I'm sorry. Tell them how much they meant to me. Dick, Jason, Damian, Alfred...All of them.'_

Jason briefly closed his eyes, fighting back the mist that at begun to fog his vision.

' _Thank you for everything Bruce...Robin out.'_

He also hated how much Tim's death reminded him of his own. Tim died, beaten to a pulp and alone, with Batman nowhere in sight. He died a fiery death, sacrificing himself for the sake of others. For a moment, Jason wished he could go back in time and shake some sense into the kid. Wished he could scream at Bruce for not seeing the type of person he had tempered him into.

The thing about Tim was, he wasn't reckless or careless as some might say. Those words would imply a lack of thought, a lack of planning. But Jason knew Tim.

When confronted with a problem, most of the time he had already run at least 3 scenarios through his head before anyone could blink. So in the end, he wasn't reckless, he was selfless. Selfless to a fault. Tim had always been far too willing to sacrifice himself. So yes, Jason wanted to scream at Bruce for allowing him to become that. For not knowing him well enough to expect something like this.

Instead, Jason took another breath, absently cracking his knuckles with his thump. He forced himself to focus, to paint a complete picture of that night. To run through all the scenarios and pull on all the threads.

Naturally, Jason knew Bruce (and undoubtedly all the others) had already surveyed the area and collected all the evidence. But sometimes it was about perspective. Bruce was looking for a body, Jason was looking for the absence of one. The vigilante stood there for several minutes more, having an internal battle with himself. Trying to make sure it wasn't his own denial or grief clouding his judgement.

In the end, he wasn't left with any concrete evidence, but rather a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something about it just didn't set well with him. It wasn't just one thing, it was a thousand little things. It was the total lack of remains or the way the scorch pattern wasn't quite right. It was the strange interference over the coms just before the line went dead.

Jason gave the roof one last glance before deciding he had seen enough.

He pulled out his grappling gun and fired, the hook finding it target in mere seconds. An instant later he was airborne, the wind whipping past his face.

He was going to follow every thread, regardless of where they might lead him. He owed him that much.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2 here we go! This kinda vaguely set during follow issues after Tim's 'death', but you don't need to read them to get the story. Hope you guys like it. :D**

 **In reply to Inthenightguest: Okay so here's what happened. There were these weaponized drones that were gonna kill a lot of people. They were out of time so Tim hacked them to target his location instead. ALL OF THEM. Like hundreds. Backup didn't get there in time so Tim fought them off on his own. He made it through the first wave, but the second was way worse. It appeared as though he died in an explosion. BUT at the last second he was teleported away by a mysterious figure named Mr. Oz. He kept Tim imprisoned for a really long time, and no one figured it out. They all thought Tim was dead. Hope this helps!**

* * *

Jason Todd once again found himself perched on the edge of some heinously high structure, that was where he seemed to find himself a lot these days. Then again, that was where he had been finding himself since the day he put on the Robin suit.

But this time it wasn't a skyscraper, or a fire escape, it was a satellite. More specifically, a S.T.A.R. Labs satellite, a new addition to this particular branch of the facility. The position he was crouched in was an uncomfortable and awkward one, but it was the spot with the strongest signal.

Briefly, Jason wondered if being around radio waves this powerful was healthy. He made a mental note to keep an eye out for any unusual growths or hair loss, and then to give Tim a hard time about it when he found him.

 _If_ he found him. He had to keep reminding himself it was an _if,_ not a _when_. Jason had nothing solid to go on, only anomalies. Little things that should or should not be there. He'd spent hours sifting through all the available data, and even trying to collect some of his own. He had tried to talk to the others, ask them it they thought it was a possibility, but no one seemed open to the idea. They all thought he was looking too much into it, that his grief was getting to him. Which was fine, Jason didn't care what they thought, only what he found.

The bottom line was, he couldn't accept it, not yet anyway. Not until he saw this through. Not until he found the end of the metaphorical thread. Which had led him to where he was now, balanced on the top of an insanely powerful satellite, rhythmically flipping through Red Robin's com-channels. Waiting.

All the while, the events of the previous day played through his mind.

* * *

 _A cold wind swept over the roof of the Belfry, chilling Jason to the bone. The sky was still dark and gray, sprinkling light flecks of snow now and again. Jason moved slowly and methodically across the space of the roof, eyes focused on the device in hand (courtesy of Biz)._

 _In his peripheral vision, he could see the faint outline of Cassandra as she crouched on a neighboring rooftop, still as a gargoyle and silent as the night. If he were being perfectly honest, it freaked Jason the hell out, especially when she would vanish and reappear in a different spot._

 _However, creepiness aside, Jason couldn't bring himself to feel truly threatened by her presence. She was watching him, per request of Batwoman no doubt, but he knew her well enough to know she wasn't going to confront him or try to make him leave. Cass was good like that._

 _Jason's attention was torn from the silent figure in the shadows and back to the devise in hand. A single beep sounded and Jason quickly began sifting through the results. What he found made him freeze, his breath hitching for a moment. It wasn't definitive, he had to remind himself that, it wasn't hard evidence. But it was enough to warrant further investigation._

 _The ruffle of a cape whispered through the air behind him, and Jason went rigid for a moment, his senses going into high alert. His first thought was that it was the Bat, but he quickly realized it was a smaller, lighter, fun-sized Batman instead._

 _"What do you want, demon spawn," Jason spoke, not bothering to look up from the devise._

 _"I want to know why you have been lurking up here for the past three days," Damian demanded, his arms crossed in what was supposed to be a strict or intimidating pose._

 _The lack of height on his part really ruined the intended effect._

 _"Aren't you supposed to be off with your Super-Friend?" Jason inquired, deflecting the question._

 _"I was summoned here by father..."_

 _"What poor virgin did he have to sacrifice to pull off that one..." Jason interrupted, unable to resist the opportunity._

 _Damian clenched his fists and let out a small growl, attempting to keep his composure. Jason smirked._

 _"In the wake of...Drake's death, father wanted the whole team, as well as the rest of us, to talk to a therapist in order to evaluate our emotional and psychological state," Damian explained, his tone clipped business-like. "I imagine he will want you to as well, Hood."_

 _Jason made a cross between a snort and a laugh. "Good luck with that."_

 _"I'll admit, it's not...ideal," Damian conceded, gritting his teeth._

 _Jason shot him a curious glance, taking a moment to read his expression. He looked tired._

 _"Well, gremlin, you have fun with that," Jason answered, slipping the devise in his pocket and collecting his crimson helmet. "I'm out of here."_

 _There was silence for a beat as Jason made his way to the edge of the roof._

 _"I was told that you have latched onto the delusion that Drake might still be alive," Damian spoke up, his voice condescending. But Jason didn't miss the spark of hope his words carried._

 _"So?" Jason only shrugged, his voice echoing slightly in the open space. "Once upon a time, Tim had the same delusion about Bruce. He turned out to be right. And besides, you and I know better than anyone that Robins don't always stay dead."_

 _"Tt. Batman already combed the entire area and found nothing," Damian scoffed. "What on earth would make you adopt such a theory?"_

 _Jason paused and tilted his head to the side, taking a moment to study the young Robin. Something told him that he wanted it to be true just as much as Jason did. It was moments like these where he was acutely aware that Damian was a kid. Just a kid forced into a life where he had to be cold and ruthless, but that wasn't who he was deep down. Not really. Deep down, he was a little kid who had just lost his big brother._

 _"Alright, hell spawn," Jason began, setting his helmet back down and taking a few steps towards him. "Let's see if you can use that brain of your's. Look around, tell me what you see."_

 _"All of the debris and evidence has been moved off-site already," Damian stated flatly, crossing his arms once again._

 _"Maybe, but there's still something here."_

 _Damian only rolled his eyes, before turning his gaze to scan his surroundings. After a few moments, he paused, moving forward as if to get a better look. Jason watched the gears in his head turn as he pieced it all together._

 _"The scorch marks," Damian finally stated._

 _"Bingo," Jason chimed. "So tell me, kid, where's the shadow? An explosion powerful enough to destroy any remains would leave a nice human-shaped shadow. There isn't one, there isn't anything. I've looked. There's nothing here to suggest that there was ever a body," he reasoned._

 _Damian was silent and contemplative for a moment, allowing the words to soak in._

 _"There's any number of factors that could've come into play, that's not enough to prove anything," he concluded._

 _"No, but this is," Jason countered, producing the small device he had been using._

 _"Where did you get that?" Damian inquired, narrowing his eyes._

 _"My pocket," the former Robin deadpanned. "But that doesn't matter, what matters is what it does."_

 _"Which is?"_

 _"It detects trace amounts of exotic energy," Jason explained, "and there's quite a bit of it right where we're standing,"_

 _"Energy that's consistent with a boom tube," he revealed._

Damian furrowed his brow in confusion. " _Are you suggesting Red Robin opened a boom tube and escaped?"_

 _"I don't know, I don't know if he even had the equipment for that," Jason admitted. "But somebody sure as hell did, so you do the math."_

 _"We need to tell Batman immediately," Damian stated, his posture going ram-rod straight._

 _With that, he spun on his heel and began to march away._

 _"No, no. Not yet," Jason argued, catching him by the back of the cape. "This still isn't enough to prove that Tim's alive."_

"Then what are we going to do?" Damian questioned irritably, tearing his cape from Jason's grasp.

 _"I'm gonna try and get something that is enough," Jason answered, grabbing his helmet and sliding it into place._

 _"I'm coming with you," Damian said with finality._

 _"No, you're not," Jason replied, with even more finality._

 _"I want to help!" Damian exclaimed, a twinge of something Jason couldn't quite read in his voice._

 _The vigilante considered it for a moment, drawing in an annoyed sigh. "Alright fine, you can help. I need something and you have a better chance of getting it then I do,"_

 _"Do you have full access to the Bat-computer?" Jason questioned._

 _"Of course, and even if I didn't I could hack in," he answered. "I did pick up a few things over the years."_

 _The words 'from Tim' echoed through the air, unspoken._

 _"What do you need?"_

 _"I need every com-channel that Tim ever used, every frequency, every encrypted network. All of it," Jason revealed._

 _"Done."_

 _The Red Hood nodded wordlessly, turning and preparing to take his leave._

 _"And Todd," Damian called, his voice somehow sounding smaller than it should've._

 _Jason stopped, partially turning back._

 _"Please find him."_

 _"I'll do my best, kid. You have my word," he promised solemnly._

 _Damian gave a nod, a strange understanding passing between them._

 _"Remember, keep it on the down low," Jason reminded, walking backwards as he spoke._

 _"That goes for you too, Cassie," he called into the night, fully aware she had been listening the entire time._

 _The only reply he received was a simple incline of her head. It was enough._

* * *

Now, it was a matter of deduction. Jason still wondered if Tim had somehow done it himself. But even if he had, he wouldn't have waited so long to contact them. So either Tim did it, and it went wrong, or somebody else had done it and taken Tim. Neither was a good prognosis.

Jason adjusted his balance, the com receiver held firmly in hand. The sun was beginning to set, stretching long shadows across the metropolitan landscape. He knew what Tim would do, it was what any of them would do. He would try to make contact. Which was why Jason was currently atop one of the most powerful satellites in the world. It had been designed to listen to frequencies in distant galaxies, measure particles, ect. Some had even speculated it could pick up signals from

parallel universes.

Which was why Jason had picked this one to give him a signal boost. He didn't know where Tim was, and boom tubes have an awfully long range. It could be miles, or it could be lightyears, either way, Jason was going to cast his net as wide as possible.

So the Red Hood crouched there, and waited. Waited until the sun set and well after, waited until it came back around again, thawing the residual layer of hoarfrost that the night had left behind. By the time dawn came, he was tired and cold, and his legs felt like jelly. It wasn't pleasant, but it was a good endurance test.

But he was done, for now at least. He would try again, but first he needed at least a few hours of shut-eye.

Jason stood up for the first time in hours, his leg muscles stiff and burning. The Red Hood pulled out his grappling gun and aimed, preparing to clamp down on the trigger. That was when he heard it; a small crackle of static. Then there was a voice, clear as a bell.

For an instant, the world around him seemed to stop.

* * *

Jason tapped his foot impatiently on the metallic floor, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. The Cave was quiet and empty that day, the only sound being Jason's movement and the occasional clicks of the bats.

It was mid-morning now, the air still cold and the cave as drafty as ever. Jason still wore most of his gear and his legs still burned from his late night activities. But it was worth it, a thousand times worth it.

The vigilante was brought back to reality by the soft tap of footsteps. Jason glanced to his left, his eyes falling on two familiar figures.

"Good morning, master Jason," Alfred greeted pleasantly, "I thought you might be interested in some tea," he added, gesturing to the tray in hand.

"Thanks, Alfred," Jason replied gratefully, taking one of the cups off the tray. The butler nodded, seeming content. Jason took a sip, the warm liquid thawing the residual chill that still clung to him.

Damian hung back a little as Alfred began to speak, his demeanor calm yet impatient. He wanted answers; Jason understood the feeling.

"I must admit, I haven't seen much of you lately. Tell me, how have you been?" he spoke, his tone taking a serious turn.

"I'm actually really good," Jason admitted, the faintest smile on his lips. "I'm better than good."

And it was true, he was good. He was worried, and a little edgy, but now he had something he didn't before. He had hope.

"I'm glad to hear it, Master Jason," Alfred answered quietly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Glad to hear it indeed." After that he gave him a small smile that didn't quite meet his eyes.

For the first time, it hit Jason just how weary the butler looked. He was grieving too, in his own way. Grieving for the loss of yet another son. It sent a pang through Jason's chest, Alfred didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve any of this.

The former Robin drew in a deep breath, his hand gripped tightly on the object in his pocket, like it was a lifeline. (In some ways, it was.)

"I have something I need to tell you guys," Jason stated abruptly, his tone low and serious.

Damian's and Alfred's attention snapped to him in an instant.

"Look, I was gonna wait for the others..."

As of on cue, Jason was cut off by the loud roar of a vehicle pulling into the cave. Moments later, Dick got out, harboring both Stephanie and Cassandra with him.

Jason gave a nod of acknowledgement, standing up from where he had been seated.

"Where's Bruce?" Jason asked furrowing his brow.

"On a covert ops mission in Santa Prisca, he won't be back for a couple days," Dick informed. "What's going on, you said it was urgent," he added.

"It is," Jason replied, taking a moment to collect his thoughts and extract the com-receiver from his pocket. "It's about Tim."

Stephanie stiffened, an unreadable expression flickering across her features.

"Jason," Dick began, his voice somber, "I'm sorry, I don't want to accept it either, but Tim is..."

"No, you need to listen to me," he cut him off firmly. "I found something, alright. Things weren't adding up, so I went back to the Belfry."

"And what did you find?" Stephanie crossed her arms over her chest, an unsteadiness to her words.

"For starters, somebody opened a boom tube right where Tim was standing."

"Boom...tube," Cassandra echoed quietly, the pieces beginning to click together.

"Look, even if that were true, that still doesn't mean Tim's alive," Dick began to argue.

"The question isn't whether or not Tim's alive anymore," Jason stated, holding up the receiver for all to see.

After that he hit the button, and a recorded message began to play.

" _Can anybody hear me? This is Red Robin putting out an all points bulletin. Does anybody read_ ," Tim's voice filled the room.

Stephanie let out a soft gasp, tears forming in her eyes.

 _"I am alive and captured. I repeat I am alive and captured. Does anybody...what."_

After that his voice cut off, drowned out by the never ending static. The expressions of those in the room ranged from relief to shock.

"The question is, who's gonna help me find him," Jason added with determination.


End file.
